Why Treble Isn't Purple
by Celia
Summary: You read it right-Treble is NOT purple. Or at least he shouldn't be...A slightly twisted story of how the Megaman (and X) timeline became as screwy as it is today.
1. The Dangers of Housecleaning and Prolong...

Oi, I _know_ I shouldn't do this.

I know I have other stories to do.

I know there isn't time for me to be off messing around with a whole different genre (and category).

I know that I've crossed the Japanese and English names in some forsaken hodgepodge.

And yes, I know I'm a idiot.

Tis Celia here, with one of those ideas. You know the kind, they just don't take the hint and die off.

********

Disclaimer: Alrighty then, you're gonna listen and listen good, cause I ain't repeating this! All characters are copyright a bunch of rich people. Sadly, I am not rich. You do the math.

********

** **

WHY TREBLE ISN'T PURPLE

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy not so far away, there was a bunch of stuff that happened that wasn't supposed to. Like Armored Panty becoming a fashion for guys. But that's not what we're here to talk about. No, we have something much more important to discuss. Like why the school cafeteria serves dog food instead of whatever 'mystery casserole' is supposed to be. Or something like that.

In any case, there was an event that wasn't supposed to transpire that did. And that changed the future. Now don't go telling me about paradoxes and how blah blah is supposed to yadda yadda, because I've never been one to listen to logic or all that nonsense about fate and destiny. To quote someone much more adept at authoring stories and just about everything else, THERE IS NO SPOON! 

Ya see, I don't like it when fate or destiny or Bill Clinton messes up, but that seems to happen a lot and I can't do anything but write about it. So that's what I'm going to do-write. That's right readers, Celia's at it again with one of those Tom Fool™ ideas and she isn't going to let something like 'reality' stop her. So buckle up and keep your limbs inside the vehicle, cause you're going to come to the realization that this isn't just some fanfic…oh no, this is history rewritten…

CHAPTER 1

The Dangers of Housekeeping and Prolonged Exposure to Incessant Noise.

Bass sighed.

So that was it, huh? 'You fail one more time and get your circuits ripped out, don't come cryin' to me.' _Thank you Wily. Excuse me for trying to defeat your archenemy._

__

Stupid, stupid blueberry. Absentmindedly, the black robot picked at the still smoking wires. Ooohh, that was gonna leave a mark. He looked down from his perch at the pedestrians below, then back at the sky that loomed above, then at the raindrops that were steadily getting thicker, he came to a conclusion.

"I'm a dead little 'bot. Yes siree."

It wasn't like he could go anywhere, being neatly tied up and hung from a building twenty stories in the air, Blues' work no doubt. The sadistic creep had the strangest sense of humor. Astro boy would never pull a stunt like this, not in a million bazillion years. Rock was more likely to take him back to the lab for repairs...again. Too bad he couldn't remember exactly what happened. It would probably come in handy later. All he remembered was looting a store, then battling Megaman, a whistle, and a whole lot of screaming.

In any case, the street was looking a little on the small side from his position, and he didn't feel like going 'el splatto', not just yet. But the exposed live wires weren't going to handle the rain very well, not very well at all. The Blue Bomber's rival was probably going to short circuit, twenty stories above the street, hanging from a flagpole on the side of a skyscraper. 

"Oi, that's a pathetic way to go..."

But no, the fates weren't done with their chew toy yet, oh no. They had lots and lots in store for him_._

"YOU! UP THERE! WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST!"

Bass twisted around, a mistake as it turned out. Pain shot through his gears, and an odd grinding sound filled the air. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists and cracked open an eye. The red flashing lights of police cars were easy to see through the hazy rain, a little too easy for Bass. _Great, just...great._

It was about then that the robot master's systems decided to give out.

Roll swept the last of the dust out from under the couch, then sucked it up into the vacuum. Setting the putrid green Lazy-boy back down, she plopped down on its worn surface and flicked on the television. Finally, with the floors mopped, the ceilings dusted, and the lab spick and span, she had time for a break. Sighing to herself, she flipped through the channels halfheartedly. Ah, daytime television...

"Garbage...soaps...garbage...infomercial...garbage...soap...soap...soap...news...soap...soap...Bass' being deactivated...soap...hey-WHAT!!!?"

With newfound enthusiasm, Dr. Light's housekeeper switched back the news station. A pretty reporter flipped her hair, pointing to the all too familiar robot museum where an armored car was being led to the back door.

"...the Robot Master was found hanging unconscious from a building this afternoon, after being defeating by the robotic hero, Megaman. An anonymous call alerted the authorities-"

__

Rock? Tie someone to a flagpole in the rain? I bet it was Blues…

Roll's musings were cut short by the door bursting open. An ecstatic Blues, followed by a not-so cheery Rock, strolled into the main room, tracking mud all over Roll's clean floor. Eyes narrowing, the pair's sister stood up, hands on her hips. 

"OH yeah! Did you see the look on his face!" 

"That wasn't very nice…"

"This is _Bass_ we're talking about."

"Yeah, but they're gonna _deactivate _him…"

"So what? You can only drive a tank through town, let loose a herd of rabid dogs on a crowded street, bomb City Hall, kidnap people's kids, etc. so many times before the law gets fed up with you."

"Well…they could just reprogram him…"

"Oi…" Blues shook his head, sitting down on the newly vacuumed chair, "Humans don't work that way. You should know that by now. They're superstitious little people who'll probably ostracize our little pest from freakin' society forever, even if he did something like save a busload of kids from going over a cliff. Which is something he wouldn't do anyway. They hold grudges, ya know. Why the heck would you want him around anyway? And where the heck did I learn the word ostracize? And thinking of pointless questions, why do you keep asking me to-"

Roll's scowl deepened, "AHEM!"

Both brothers turned to their well-protected, and uncharacteristically ticked-off sister. And both of them took off like a shot for the doormat, dropping the dirt caked boots where they belonged. And the Beast was satisfied, for now anyway.

"Thank you," she smiled sweetly, "and next time don't make me remind you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever…" Blues continued his rant, but this time chose to mutter under his breath the whole time. A wise decision indeed, if he intended to keep Rock from hearing some words that should never be uttered in the presence of children. Flinging his scarf over his shoulder, he took the stairs a few at a time. The audible slam of his door shook plaster from the ceiling. Rock inched away from Roll, who was a only a stone's throw away from going on a homicidal rampage. Housecleaning does that to you.

"Um…I'm just going to check the lab, okay…"

Roll broke out of her trance, "Oh, sure. See you at dinner. Tell the Doc that it's his favorite, kay?"  


Rock shouted an affirmative over his shoulder on his way to the Lab, leaving what he believed to be a schizophrenic she-devil with access to power tools in the living room.

Roll listened for the sounds of her brother's footsteps to fade away before she plopped back down on the recently slimed couch and flicked on the TV once again. She'd start dinner later.

The lady on the screen pointed to a brigade of armed personnel, surrounding a smaller group who were dragging along an all too familiar black form.

"Today in the news, one of Wily's most troublesome robots has finally met its end. The police are not releasing any specific details as of yet, only that they hope to download the location of Wily's current fortress before deactivating the bloodthirsty machine. Tomorrow, Dr. Thomas Light will be visiting the holding cell in which the robot will be kept in hopes of extracting the information needed and safely shutting down this nuisance to society. More details at eleven."

Roll's eyebrows shot up. Dr. Light was going _there_? Roll hoped that she wasn't asked to go. Sure, she didn't mind seeing Bass (watching Blues gloat was one of her favorite pastimes), but the Robot Museum just wasn't her favorite place. Think about it like an open-air graveyard. Yeah, a real cheery sort of place filled with irreverent children who bounded down the halls, dusty corpse with bright lights glaring down at the empty shells that once were your ancestors…they once were alive, there was something behind those eyes…

Shaking her head to clear the all to familiar image of the sterile white walls, she leaned back in the comfy green chair. Roll looked blankly and the soon to be mildew covered couch and muddy floor. She still had to make dinner for the doctor too…

Putting on her best 'happy' face she jumped to her feet, "Better get started. Chores don't do themselves!"

****

"Dum _de_ dum dum…something somethin' something…goes 'round and round, round and round!"

Sam stared at his bleary-eyed companion. The two guards had been subjected to constant torture for the last four hours, and had left their sanity behind long ago. Joe was supposed to be back here with the earplugs twenty minutes ago, but there was a bet saying that he had run off. _Lucky son of a dog…_Sam's inner rambling was cut short by the desperate cry of his fellow guard.

"Make it stop…make it STOP!!!"

The high pitched and purposefully out of tune medly of chaos continued. Surrounded by reinforced walls, and what was believed to be sound proof barriers, the sound continued, this time taking the form of just one high pitched note, ringing on.

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!!! I'M GOING CRAZY IN HERE!!! LET ME OUT!!!!"

Sam, one of the Robot Museums finest men was reduced to banging his head against the wall in an attempt to clear his head. Dr. Light better be here soon, then that-that-_thing_ would finally be silenced forever…yeeesss…yeeeesss!! He had to stop himself from letting out an evil chuckle. _And I thought my kids were loud…_

__

"LALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALAAAAAAAA!! Can you idiots hear me?"

"I'm gonna kill it myself…I'll rip it's voice chip out…yeah, then I'll wire'em to a toaster…and…then, hee hee, I'LL MAKE TOAST!!! It's genius I tell you! Genius! Nya-hahahahahaha!"

"Sam? Sam? You okay…?"

****

"Now remember, Blues, the Doc said you hafta be on your best behavior."

Blues snorted, Roll coughed, and there was much merriment in the back seat. Rock was not happy. No, he wasn't happy at all.

"I'm serious!"

The merriment continued.

"Roll, I thought you knew better," Rock sighed. 

The merriment continued, only louder this time.

Rock sighed and looked at his reflection in the window. _This is going to be a looong day._

Doctor Light smiled to himself, listening to the bickering behind him. Just like a typical family, they had their arguments, usually ending with Blues leaving or Roll interfering. Today, though, Blues wanted to torment Wily's greatest creation too much to be turned back by his little brother. And although, Roll was being a little out of character as well-a strange side-effect of her advanced programming and one too many fudge sundaes for lunch-Light had a feeling that the day was going to be an okay one, despite all the warning signs… Warning signs like meeting with a psychotic robot, extracting info from said robot, keeping Blues and Rock in the same room for over two minutes…heck, now that he thought about it, even waking up at all…

The ancient truck rattled its way into the parking lot of the infamous Robotics Museum, with it's precious robotic cargo more or less in tact. Dr. Light's latest invention (designed solely for going through whatever file codes Dr. Wily had installed in his greatest creation yet) had been covered by a tarp and tied down. Needless to say, its odd shape was gathering stares faster than a Riply's exhibit. 

Blues feet had barely touched the gravel-ridden pavement before they were hounded by reporters. Resisting the urge to just give the pesky humans a kick in the pants, he adjusted his scarf and shades and, clearing his throat, gave the best reply he could to the barrage of questions.

"SHUUUUUT UUUUUUUUP!!!!"

The silence was deafening, broken only by the hum of the hover-truck.

"Thank you." 

Unfortunately, the glorious peace was broken by an earsplitting (and slightly soprano) screech.

"_BLUES!_"

The red robot winced at the noise, muttering under his breath about blueberries and their stupid rivals. Stepping to the side, he watched the unusually colored side door burst open once more, slamming into the spot he was standing moments before and revealing the scarf-bearing creature's little brother, who was all but foaming at the mouth. Roll giggled, Dr. Light sighed, and the former silence was gone for a looooooong time.

It took twenty minutes to answer all the press's initial questions, then twenty more to answer the second barrage, finally driving Roll of all people over the edge. Grabbing the good doctor's arm, she stormed through the crowd, barreling press people right and left. Blues followed, eyeing the destruction with his eternally tinted vision, with Rock bringing up the rear. 

The museum's doors were reluctant to open, and showed this by creaking loud enough to wake the dead, but not loud enough to cover what sounded like a banshee's wail. Through the hallways the eerie melody floated, taking the form of one song and then another. It bridged the gaps between rock, nursery rhymes, pop, a bloody old English war song, rap, and even just plain screaming yer lungs out until finally falling in a rut with one particularly haunting melody.

Roll shuddered to herself, though it had nothing to do with the draft coming from the overworked AC. To her left and right were exhibits depicting so many machines, from EDI, an ancient 21st century robot, to some of the Robot Masters. Her brother's fist unconsciously clenched when they passed the severed head of Gutsman and a model of Dr. Wily's last Skull Castle. The notes that seemed to penetrate every once of air in the whole museum only added to the frightening effect. 

They finally came to a door, surrounded by security personnel all in various stages of boredom, insanity, and relief at the sight of Dr. Light. The sound seemed to be coming from behind the door. But before Dr. Light could say so much as a hello, the tune ended and a crash echoed through the hall, followed by a repertoire of words from a more colorful variety than what Roll and her young brother were used to. 

"Yep, that's Bass all right."

One guard, his name tag reading 'Sam', began banging his head against the twice-forged steel walls. Roll's advanced hearing could make out the words 'why', 'me', demon', and 'toaster.' She thought it best not to ask. 

Dr. Light was lead up a flight of stairs by one of the more calm attendants, who had to remove a pair of industrial strength earplugs before speaking. The plain steps led to a high tech door that seemed out of place in the museum. It opened with a hiss, ejecting hot steam that clouded the view for a moment. Roll half expected to see a monster tied to a table, or a ray gun, or a priceless diamond, but only a small room was there to greet her inquisitive gaze. Monitors took up the entirety of one wall and a few chairs were scattered here and there. A middle-aged man rose from one of the many chairs placed in front of the screens. He was immediately recognizable as Dal Sego, the suave silk suit and trademark mustache stood out like a sore thumb in the immaculate room. Next to him stood a representative of the military and a few of the museum's employees.

"Aaah, Dr. Right, how very nice to see you."

"Dr. Light," Blues corrected automatically. 

"Oh, my apologies," answered the businessman, giving Blues a look and deciding that he didn't like him. Not one bit.

"Quite all right," Dr. Light said, "Now, I understand we have a robot to interrogate?"

"Yes, come right this way, Dr. Right."

Blues opened his mouth, thought better of it, and began slowly counting to ten under his breath. _Hoo-boy_, thought Roll, _this isn't going to end well…_

"As you can see, it is completely out of control."

Dr. Light stared at the screens, his bushy white brows knitted together in concentration. The monitor showed a live video of Bass's cell. Stripped of his armor and weapons, Bass was hardly recognizable as Megaman's tormentor, the only familiar thing being the twin scars. Right now, he was shouting out the lyrics to who knew what, (the scientists had disconnected the sound hours ago to save their sanity) while bashing himself against the wall. Every now and then he'd stop to get his breath, sing a few songs, shout obscenities, and then return to throwing himself against the wall in a desperate attempt to escape. All he had to show for his efforts, though, was a good-sized dent and several traumatized guards. 

"Bass has been screaming for four straight hours now, and security would be very much obliged if you were to hurry with the interrogations and shut the monster off. We had to close the museum because of the noise."

"Believe ya," whistled Blues. Even here, his robotic ears could pick up strains of Bass's noise-making. Rock and Roll nodded in agreement.

Dal Sego ignored Blues, continuing, "We will send down a team to get him whenever you are ready."

"Give the word," answered Light, still watching the screens.


	2. Roll-Fashion Model Extrodinaire

Chapter 2

Roll-Fashion Model Extrodinaire

Blues smirked.

"Don't you say a word."

Bass wasn't happy. And that was the understatement of the year. He was wet, cold, defenseless, surrounded by guards, had several exposed wires that weren't making life any easier, missing his dog, and all around ticked off at seeing Blues' all too happy face. The ebony robot was handcuffed with trianium-whasit alloy (he'd never taken the time to remember the correct name), so he couldn't even have the satisfaction of punching in the infuriating pair of shades. Then again, even without the annoying restraints, there were several plasma cannons aimed at his head. _Peachy, ain't it?_

"Now Blues…" admonished the good doctor, being too preoccupied to do much else. Adjusting his glasses, Dr. Light went back to staring down his nose at the pile of papers in front of him. Schematics and blueprints were spread all over the table, with a team of scientist bringing in more every five minutes.

All of the happy fun pages were result of the multiple scans being done every minute, and whatever information they could get on how Wily's creation ticked from other sources. The point of all this info was to find the right settings for attaching the 'Extractor' as the machine was coming to be called. Blues and Rock had been sent to get the huge computer system and it had taken both of them to life it up the long stair case leading to the lab. Scan after scan had been performed, the results being downloaded into the Extractor's systems. Every now and then Dr. Light would narrate something he was fiddling with to his colleagues. Roll frowned, what was this-an interrogation or a lecture? 

"Dr. Light, I believe I've found something that would interest you," called one of the mousy scientists, holding the latest of the computer printouts. Roll strained her neck to see what it was, but all she caught was a glimpse of the word 'power core' and a bunch of techno babble that she couldn't make heads or tails of. Sure she was smart, and had a basic knowledge of robotics, but the dribbling and dry mysteries of science didn't particularly interest her. There wasn't anything mysterious or profound about causing a significant decline in the dustbunny population and pounding her brothers into wiping their feet on the doorstep. 

But even if Roll couldn't' care less what Bass's power system thingy was, Dr. Light did. And if Bass himself hadn't interfered, it would be the cover of next month's 'Science Weekly'. But before we get ahead of ourselves, and I mean a few days ahead, back to the matter at hand.

"Well…I never thought Albert was that innovative…" Dr. Light looked up from the pages at Bass, who was currently arguing with Rock while trying to avoid getting another scan_. _If Wily had been able to design an AI coding like _that_, then he might be more of a threat than the old doctor had ever imagined. Then again, there was always the chance that Bass had been an accident. Wily didn't seem the type to want a fighting robot with a whole lot of personality. 

Blues grinned from his place in the corner of the room. Bass and his brother were shouting across the room now, and the lab assistants were frantically trying to keep the two biodroid's under control, without much success. 

"Peachy," sighed Roll, sitting on one of the more plush chairs. After a while the fight had turned particularly nasty with Bass throwing in several more colorful words every sentence. Turning her gaze from the two arch rivals, she stared at where Dr. Light was having the greatest time since the day he invented Rush. Elbow deep in papers and pen ink dotting his trademark coat, he was having a particularly animated conversation with one of his fellow pursuers of knowledge-a young scientist by the name of Dr. Kalm. One phrase in particular caught her attention-

"-bring back to my Lab for further study."

__

Bring what back?

"Dr. Light, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course! I wouldn't pass up a chance like this. Besides, without his armor and weapons, he's as harmless as a kitten."

A loud crash echoed across the room as Bass delivered a kick to Rock's stomach, sending the smaller boy flying into wall. 

"Well, almost…"

The younger scientist frowned, "Doctor, I can't help but question your sanity…"

"John, you have nothing to worry about, Rock and Blues can-"

A blaster shot echoed across the room, quickly followed by a satisfying sizzle and crunch as Bass hit the floor.

  
"BLUES!"

"Well, _excuse_ me for saving you're sorry rear!"

"You didn't have to _shoot_ him. He doesn't have any armor!"

"And your point?"

"Rock, Blues! Stop that this instant!" Dr. Light stormed across the room angrily, followed by Roll. 

Dr. John Kalm frowned. He had been studying under Dr. Light for several years now at the main LightTech lab, and knew the doctor better than anyone. Well, except maybe the three robots that the doctor lived with. And he knew that this would be a bad idea. Bass was by no means 'defenseless'-who knew what kind of stuff was hidden away in his twisted gears…But even then, Rock and Blues shouldn't have any problem.

Kalm had long suspected exactly who Megaman was, and, though had never really met Rock, Roll, and Blues himself, had a pretty good idea of the trio's personalities, traits, design, and roles. 

Bass on the other hand, well, Kalm knew that robot on a lot more personal basis. But he liked to keep that messy incident under wraps. At least Dr. Wily's greatest creation (to date) hadn't recognized him. That would have lead to certain…problems. A screech echoed around the room, dragging Kalm down from cloud nine faster than Rock and Blues running to the door to drop their boots in the face of an angry Roll. 

"AYEEEEEE!"

Roll had gotten too close to the fallen robot, and one of the loose wires had given her a nasty shock. Now she was jumping up holding her burnt hand and shouting obscenities that very few people thought she knew.

Kalm sighed. Some days just weren't worth waking up for.

***

"You know…I kinda like this helmet. Whaddaya think, Rock?"

The blue bomber sighed, sinking lower into his chair, "I think you should stop messing around with Bass' armor."

Roll pouted, "Oh, you're no fun. In case you haven't noticed, most normal people like trying on new clothes."

"Normal _girls_. And this is just plain ridiculous."

The fight continued, with Roll swimming in the oversized armor, the helmet falling in front of her eyes every now and then. Anyone who came across the scene would have thought twice about ever going near Dr. Light's lab again, that was for sure. Roll had tried on the obsidian armor for the hey of it, and was now modeling for her two brothers. 

"Well, I like it and I think I just might keep it! Maybe if I trimmed it a bit and redid the boots-"

  
Rock rolled on the ground laughing, "Like that'll ever happen! Bass would kill you, with or without a buster," his voice took on a slightly more serious tone, "Besides, no sister of mine is going to tramp around wearing my arch-rivals clothes."

"I could give'em a new paint job. At least this way I'd get a buster."

"Reason number three," pointed out Rock, "you and arm cannons don't mix."

Roll sighed, "I guess your right. Besides, Dr. Light wouldn't let me have the stuff anyway. Not in a million years. I better go change before he gets back upstairs…"

"You do that."

The blonde maid trudged her way up the stairs to her room, dragging the too big boots with her. A loud clang echoed through the house quickly followed by a curse and then a feminine voice shouting, "I'm okay!"

Blues turned and walked into the kitchen, as silently as he had come. He didn't mind the armor that much, maybe if she painted it and gave it a few different touches. Besides, if he and Rock got busters, why not Roll too? What would happen if Wily attacked the Lab directly-how would she defend herself? And despite the fact that it was about a zillion sizes too big, she didn't look half bad in it. 

Grabbing some soda out of the fridge, he made his way outside to the front porch, whistling all the way. But the notes faltered every now and then. Blues mind was somewhere else. Namely in the sub basement on a table by some computers and wiring where Bass was snoring away, the Doc fiddling with what made the poor loser tick. He knew that bringing the robot back to the lab had been a bad idea. But of course, it would be against the laws of physics for anyone to listen to him. Law of physics, fate, and just plain life in general.

Faint strains of conversation reached his ears, and after glancing around for a minute, he found the source to be coming from the basement window. You know the type, small, next to the ground, and one BIG pain to clean. Glancing around quickly, he flopped down on the chair nearest to the window and cocked his head. To a passerby, he looked sound asleep, one of the many perks of the Bono Raybans.

"Amazing…simply amazing."

There was a long pause.

"Computer, examine subroutine."

The digital female voice responded, in its usual dead-pan monotone, "Data processessing. Memory downloaded."

__

He's downloading Bass' memory?

"Check for relevant data for…Rock."

"Data processing."

Blues heard Dr. Light gasp, "IT WORKS!"

There was a pause, the doctor muttering something or other to himself every now and then.

"Save to disk."

"Saving…please wait."

"Hmm…this is working out better than expected. I might just be able to use this information for the expo…"

__

What expo?

"Search for all data on Blues!"

And so it went on, file after file filled with the ebony robot's thoughts. Fighting techniques, Dr. Wily's plans, everything that Dr. Light could think of…

"Well, um, all data on Beat."

"Data processing."

"All data on Roll."

"File corrupt. Unable to download."

"WHAT?!"

"Subroutine blocked. Information unstable, engaging automatic shutdown."

There was a sound of frantic button pushing, but overall, it looked like Bass had won out. And the reason why was soon revealed.

"OUCH! Holy smack what the bloody heck is going on here?! What're you doing with that?! What's that? Why is that freaking wire freaking connected to my freaking wrist!? What are tryin' to do? Download me? Not on MY watch. Don't you even think you're gonna shut me down! What didja do with Treble!? If you even think about-HEY! Where's my fraggin armor? I want my junk back! What're you trying to pull you flaming crazy loon? AND-"

The Bass had awoken. And he wasn't just peachy keen with Dr. Light's plans. Far from it in fact…yep, Blues decided, this was going to be one interesting argument. Or it would have been had Dr. Light not promptly shut down the troublesome robot for the second time that day. Blues decided that he didn't want to hear anymore, and trudged back inside the shady home, thinking important thoughts to himself, questioning life in general, pondering the cosmos and eventually coming to pause on one burning question-

"I wonder what would happen if I told him Roll had been wearing his armor?"

***

Roll put away the last of the dishes, but unlike very other night when the family would disperse to their own activities, the group was still sitting around the table, each in a varying degree of shock and their 'father's' latest announcement.

"So."

"So."

Rock just stared, not saying a word. Roll decided to ask The Question™ that was on all their minds.

"He's staying _here_? For a week?"

"Right," answered Dr. Light, frowning slightly.

Roll burst out laughing, "That's a good one, Doc! Bass, stay here for a week! HAHAHAHaHaHahaha..ha…ha…um…you're serious aren't you."

Dr. Light nodded gravely, "Yes, I firmly believe the Lab is the safest place to keep Bass until the Robotics Expo. He will be under the close supervision of both Megaman," he gave Rock a pointed look, "and Protoman."

The Scarfed Wonder shrugged, "Sure, why not? S'not like I have anything better to do."

Rock just stared, mouth agape, "If you're going to deactivate him, why are you waiting until the expo?"

"Because certain, _complications_ have arisen and I feel that I need to speak to some of my colleagues about it. And I'll need Wily's robot alive and well by that time."

"Complications?" Roll asked, confused as all get out, "Like what?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's just some interesting discoveries made about his construction and, er, intelligence that are bothering me and I feel that a second opinion would be a good thing."

"And I just saw a flying Spork Queen jump from my spoon and do the hula to the tune of _Kryptonite_," frowned Blues skeptically, "And dancing at all to a Three Doors Down song is impossible on it's own. What don't you want to tell us?"

The Doc didn't answer though, instead he stared at his shoes and twiddled his thumbs, "Ask me later, Blues. I need to talk to you anyway."

Blues backed up, "If this is about the whole 'issue', then no, I don't-"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright then."

Roll glanced at her oldest brother, then at Rock. Lately, Dr. Light had been trying to talk to Blues about something, though the two of them had never been clued in as to what it was. Dr. Light labeled it a 'confidential' matter. And the death glares that were handed out by Blues every time they asked _him_ were a bit discouraging.

Rock shook his head, "Sooo, we don't have a say in this do we?"

"Not really, my mind is already made up."

The Light family turned to the blue bomber, dreading his reaction like vampires dread the sunlight, and he didn't make them wait long, "In that case, we'd better get back to that Starcraft game!"

Blues started backing up, "Oh, that just reminded me, I've got some reading to do and-"

Rock grabbed him by the arm, "Oh yeah right, you're just sore cause I'm kicking your sorry white-"

Dr. Light coughed.

"…rear."

And so ended another fabulous day in the Light household. Elsewhere though, a certain large violet dog was wide-awake. Wide awake and searching for his master…

***

Yippie! It's time for a message from your omniscient author! 

The whole theme so far (if the prologue is anything to go by) how history was changed. Now, you have to understand that just because of one little event in that whole narrative was out of place, the future changed. Yep, cause time is just one biiiig thing-a-ma-bob, and when something in the chain gets out of line, the whole freaky thing gets out of line. The fabric of time is a delicate thing, and like a pair of bad panty hose, a single tear can cause a BIG™ problem…

***

__

Far in the future, sometime in 21fricken-frackenXX…

"LET ME OUT!!! I NEVER DID ANYTHING!"

X banged on the cell door, hurling insults like mad at the retreating prison guard, a habit he had picked up from the late Zero Omega. An audible 'clang' ended his quest for justice as the jailer's door closed. Several other inmates looked up at the newcomer, but most ignored him, going on with their business. After all, in the Neo Arcadia Facilities, one new reploid wasn't anything to write home to mother about, and without his trademark helmet and armor, X wasn't the most recognizable person in the world.

Reason took over the pacifist once again, and X gave up and shuffled over to one of the cots and sat down. After years of service to the humans, saving them countless times from the evils of Sigma, even giving up on bringing back Zero for the fear of infecting more robots with the Crimson Hunter's virus, this was the thanks he got. He and every other reploid on the planet.

Sure, a few had escaped Neo Arcadia's grasp, but that number grew smaller every day…sixty years ago they had started their campaign, only a few years after Zero had locked himself away, and now the reploids had dwindled down into the hundreds. X's kind filled NA's holding facilities, and executions were held daily to empty space…Dr. Cain had mentioned a story that sounded a lot like this, but X had long since forgotten the name. Something about the French Revolution and a lady named Guillotine. X was old, even if his gears were in perfect working order, thanks to the care of Dr. Light almost two centuries ago. 

Tired, he stared up at the cracked ceiling wondering if this was what Dr. Light had imagined for his utopian future. His musings were cut short though, by a rustling on the other side of the cell. Old Hunter's instincts caused X to raise his gun arm automatically, even if the cannon had long since been dismantled. 

"Who's there?"

The answer came in a raspy worn out voice, "Me."

X narrowed his eyes, "And who's that?"

A dirty boot, trimmed by tarnished gold and a cracked, red ankle piece was all that could be seen in the shadowy corner. The rest of figure was hidden by darkness and what might have been a coat, but years of dirt, grime, and hard living had reduced it to rags, "We've been through this, buddy o' pal, it's me."

"Do you have a name?"

"Yep, course I do, what do you take me for?"

"Well, then what is it?"

"Oh, now I'm just gonna up and tell some weirdo my name without a good reason. Yeah, that's smart, Genius."

X took a deep breath, "Okay then, how about an different question?"

"Fine by me."

"How did they catch you?"

X regretted the question as soon as the not-so carefully chosen words left his mouth. _Great going X, why not ask what happened to his voice while your at it, _he mentally ranted. Much to his surprise, the mystery thing replied.

"Me?" laughed the silhouette, a sound that resembled the warm-up session of the sandpaper orchestra. "Oh, they didn't catch me…"

"Huh?"

"You're curious aren't you? Well, you know what they say, curiosity salted the slug…or was it a snail?"

"Don't you mean cat?"

"Nooo…I'm pretty sure it was a snail."

__

This is one weird place, thought X, _one strange and screwy place…_


	3. Of Cabbages and King

Chapter Three

Of Cabbages and King

"SCORE!"

Rock jumped up and down like an idiot, waving his hands like a windmill and shouting his war cry to the skies. Blues just sat there, staring blankly at the empty screen in front of him, the words GAME OVER blinking seductively at him, mocking the prototype's failure. _No…NOOOOOOOOOO!_

"That's the last time I play street fighter with you," he grumbled under his breath, letting the controller drop out of his lifeless hands. Three years of a perfect record…gone…

Rock grinned evily, "You're just mad because you lost!"

Blues whirled around, bristling at Rock's cheeky attitude, "AM NOT!"

"ARE TO-OO!"

A fist fight was bound to erupt shortly, and Roll doubled her clean up pace. It would be a good idea to get out of the living room before furniture started to fly. Sighing, she checked the list of chores tacked to the bulletin board in the kitchen. _Let's see…vacuum, dust, sweep, clean plasma generator, meals, dishes, clean main computer, check mail, fill out bills, stop by Auto's place and pick up a few things, and clean the third hall windows. At least I don't have to give Rush a bath…_

Roll crossed off the vacuuming and dusting. A loud crash behind her helped her to decide that maybe getting out of the lab would be a good idea…

It was a sunshiney day outside, a light breeze to ruffle her hair and fluffy sheep-shaped clouds in the sky. All in all a perfect day to walk. Since Dr. Light didn't need too much from Auto today, she figured she could just make the trip into town on foot. Scribbling a note for the Doc and her brothers, she grabbed a pair of keys off the Rack. The Rack was huge board with hooks for keys that Rock had made a few years ago. It had over fifty notches, and almost every one had a set of keys for something hanging from the little hook. Grabbing the one marked 'House #6' she pushed open the heavy down and strolled out into the sunlight.

Out on the street, Roll passed Alson Manor, home to the wealthy family that dared live so close to Dr. Light's lab. The Alson's had long since learned to put up with the freak battles that happened every now and then on their neighbor's front lawn, and the occasional explosion, but when Bass was brought in yesterday, they decided that a long vacation would be in order. The stunning windows were blocked with drapes, and the magnificent gates were locked, and other than the caretaker of the mansion, the place was deserted.

Roll passed the giant structure, making her way down the long, empty road in front of her to the town. Humming to herself, she checked the list in her pocket and skipped along merrily, all in all making a scene that would cause Dr. Wily to barf up the burrito that he'd just eaten. Behind the girl, though, was an unexpected follower. Wreathing in shadows, it watched and waited. Soon…soon…

***

Auto didn't like Dr. Kalm.

He didn't know why, or even if there was a reason, he just didn't like him. The scientist had just rubbed him the wrong way at their first meeting or something. And ever since, Auto had been more than a little wary of the man with the shifty eyes. That was why when Kalm entered Auto's infamous store the green robot had looked up from where he was ringing up little Calinka Cossack's latest purchase, some robot parts for her science project. Eddie the flip top also waddled around from his usual haunt-aisle four.

"Well," boomed Auto's voice across the store, "there you go, Calinka, good luck with Sprint!"

"His name's gonna be Ran!," giggled the young commie as she skipped out of the shop, nearly mowing over Roll on her way, the robot had swerved left in the nick of time, avoiding a rather messy crash.

"Hi Calinka…bye Clainka," sighed Roll watching the girl run to her father's waiting craft, nearly losing the tall black hat twice. Smoothing her red dress, she nodded to Dr. Kalm and smiled at Eddie. Turning away from the two, she made her way past displays and shelves to the front of the store where Auto was uncharacteristically brooding. His face seemed to brighten when he saw Roll, though.

"Hi there, what can I do for you?"  


Roll dug in her pocket pulling out a package of bolts and money, then the list of stuff that Dr. Light had given her.

"I hope I have enough," she frowned, looking at the nearly full page, "Oh well, if not then it's the Doc's fault."

Auto picked up the page with a bit of difficulty, his hand joints were in need of a good oiling, that was for sure, "Well, look's like Dr. Light's gonna try and build another one of his busters…"

Roll cocked an eyebrow, still counting bolts, "Really? I don't see why, it's not like Wily's back or anything."

Auto lumbered out from behind the counter picking up various items, glancing down every now and then at Dr. Light's list.

Roll leaned on the counter gazing at a few robotic's magazines lazily. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind her, and managed to hit her head on an overhanging shelf when she whirled around. Dr. Kalm chuckled, 

  
"Still a bit clumsy, I see?"

Roll hissed something under her breath, rubbing the sore spot on her forehead, "I'm okay…"

"What brings you down here, Roll?"

"Just picking up a few things for the Doc."

"Hmm?"

"Just working on another project."

Dr. Kalm wrinkled his brow, "Still fiddling with Bass, is he?"

"I don't know," she answered, feeling a little uneasy now, "I just live there."

Auto chose that moment to come back from his wanderings around the store, arms full of parts. _Thank you…_thought Roll. Saved by the robot.

"I got the stuff you wanted-" he started to say, before noticing Kalm, "Oh, hi Doc, haven't seen you in a while, hold on a sec, just getting this stuff for Miss Roll. That'll be all, right?"

Roll glanced at the list, then at the pile of equipment, "Yeah, looks good to me."

Auto rang up the items and handed the two brown paper bags to Roll. She slid the pile of bolts over the table and picked up the receipt, shouting a thanks over her shoulder as she headed for the exit.

"Ya know," she said to no one in particular as she left the parking lot, "There's something fishy about that Dr. Kalm…"

***

Mid 21XX, sometime before X's imprisonment…

Alia buckled under the weight of the column. Several wires sparked as her legs broke under the pressure. _The pain…why…the pain…_

Signas wasn't fairing any better, his right hand was crushed into uselessness and the arm cannon that he had been using long since destroyed. Another chunk of cement came splattered in front of the hapless huntress as the remainder of MHHQ came crashing down around the two. X fought on, though, he and Douglas being the only two in any condition to even walk, much less battle the hordes of Neo Arcadia drones. _Why…_

The dilapidated building was groaning under the pressure, slowly rolling to the side like the dying behemoth it was, Alia, Signas, Douglas, X, and countless other hunters still trapped inside. And still the drones pressed onward, lifeless red eyes glowing eerily in the night sky. Alia heard X scream but before she could get a good look at the azure hunter, another beam fell, blocking her view. It was only a matter of time before something hit her, or the structure fell burying her and the others like bugs in an avalanche.

Computerized voices shouted out commands, slowly circling around their remaining prey. Douglas stood alone and bravely as he could, one arm completely destroyed and his side skewered by a beam saber. Lifting his already malfunctioning arm cannon, he slowly began to charge. If he was going to go down, the hellions would fall with him. Not far away, the surrounded X caught on to the idea, unsheathing the glowing Z-saber.

"This ends here…"

And then her world went dark.

When Alia finally reopened her eyes and instantly regretted it. 

Everywhere she looked there was blood. It was spattered on the walls, dripping in from the ceiling, running in tiny rivers from the broken walls. Almost as if the very building was bleeding. 

Looking around, a very painful experience, she found that she had hardly moved an inch, though the thick support beam was no longer blocking her view and the heavy stone column was gone. Her auto repair systems were slowly fixing her leg as she lay there, like an army of miniature ants working to fix up the gaping wound. She had been moved into a more comfortable position, and was propped up against one of the stone blocks. By who, she didn't know. Douglas's unmoving body was not far away, the hole in his side just as terrible as ever, and a little ways beyond him lay a pile of dead drones. X was no where in sight. 

Something moved in the corner of her line of vision, but as she turned to get a good look, a hand grasped the back of her neck. She didn't have time to scream before a thick, foul, wad of something was pressed into her mouth.

"Shh…this is for your own good, lady."

The voice was definitely male, and a little odd.

"That's right…hold still, this'll only hurt a bit. Okay, so a lot, but you'll thank me later."

Alia didn't have time to react before a searing pain jolted through her leg, causing her to bite down on the cloth, trying her hardest not to scream. After a few agonizing minutes it passed. Unclenching her fist, she dared a glance at her injured limbs. The hole was gone, and she could feel the tingling sensation of the auto repair. _Whoever he is must have jumpstarted the repairs. Probably shocked me or something…_

When a wound was bad enough, reploids would occasionally 'numb lock' the area, shutting off everything, including the auto repair system. She had seen several people resort to shocking themselves in order to get the systems back online. Alia had been lucky enough never to have experienced the treatment until now, and wasn't all too peachy about it. 

"There, that wasn't so bad."

__

Yeah right…

He hummed a funny little tune to himself while tending to some of Alia's other wounds, keeping himself out of her line of sight. Every now and then she'd get a glimpse of brown, gold, and black, but other than that, her 'helper' remained much of a mystery. Carefully removing the gag, he pointed a gloved hand in the direction of Douglas, "Sorry, but I can't do anything for yer buddy over there. He's gone."

Alia closed her eyes. So Douglas was dead too. She managed to hack out her next question, "There…was another… Sig…nas."

The voice didn't reply for a while, "Tall, black and white armor?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to sugar coat it, Hunter. He's dead. Vaporized. Your blue bomber was carted off with the zombies kicking and screaming, I'm pretty sure he's still alive. The building collapsed shortly after I showed up, and I barely managed to get you out. The rest of the Hunters didn't make it, at least as far as I know, and I've been patrolling this wasteland for a while."

Alia fought back the tears that wanted to fall. Shuddering violently, half out of pain and half out of grief, she tried to stand, but didn't make it more than an inch off the ground.

The same hand as before pushed down on her shoulder, effectively pinning her to the floor, "Hey, don't get any ideas. You're going to need more than auto-repair systems to get yourself back to full strength, and I'm no doctor."

"You've…got another thing coming if you t-think… I'm going to let myself be packed around by a…complete stranger. How do I know tha-that your friendly?"

"You don't, and you don't have a choice in the matter."

"At…least stop hiding…behind me…"

"Deal," agreed the raspy voice.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the room, and Alia's newfound alliance stepped out of the shadows…

***

Back in 20XX…

"Every other time…nah. Need a new song."

Roll walked along the road, the afternoon song shining down softly through the green leaves. The trip home had been uneventful so far, aside from some crazy bikers and an odd old convertible hurtling down the street at breakneck speed. And now she was in need of a new song to sing. But before she could think of another melody, a sound of a completely different nature pierced the air.

Four tones…five notes. And a flash of light to boot. With a flourish, the Scarfed Wonder appeared, in all his red, gray, and yellow glory.

"Roll, we've got a problem!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and disappearing once again, this time dragging her with him. Behind the spot where she once stood, twin glimmering eyes narrowed. _Patience…soon._

By the time the dizziness had worn off she was once again in Dr. Light's lab, but now Rock was bedecked in full armor, his 'battle face' welded on once more. 

"Thank goodness you're all right," Dr, Light smiled, relieved, "I thought King might have gotten you."

"King? Who's King?"

Blues glanced at his determined younger brother before turning away, "Our next pain in the-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the sound of him warping away and the infamous whistle.

Wordlessly, Rock-no, Megaman, followed, nodding to Dr. Light and Rush, "I'll come back as soon as I can."

And then Roll's second brother-turned superhero disappeared in a flash, leaving her, the Doc, and Rush behind.

Roll turned to her father and gritted her teeth, "What. The. Heck. Is. Going ON!!"

***

It was King.

A maniacal insanely powerful robot bent on destroying everything. 

A robot who nearly destroyed Protoman in a single blow.

A robot master who had created eight Robot Masters to join him.

A robot that needed to die in as many nasty and embarassing ways as possible. Most of them involveing whipped cream, underwear, and a certain blond robot chick who was building up a charming bloodlust.

Roll frowned from her position in the makeshift HQ. Dr. Light had left the monitors to her and gone off to help her decapitated brother while she kept as close of an eye as possible on Megaman. And Megaman was losing. After defeating the Green Demon powered by rage and rage alone, he had set off with nary a word to the next challenge. One by one, the Robot Master's fell, until now, at least. Running along the sandy dunes surrounding Ground Man's lair, he'd come across trouble with a capital T. 

His sister watched helplessly from her side of the screen as he was pounded into the ground by a giant robotic snake, without help he would die.

Dr. Light glanced at the distraught Roll and scowled. Wiping oil onto a towel he made his way to the screen where Roll was sitting, fist's clenched and eyes shining.

"No…no…this isn't happening. _I won't lose him too._"

Roll glanced at where Blues lay in deep stasis, only half of his right leg finished. She would die if Rock came home in the same way, die and take King down with her. Glancing around frantically for something, _anything_ that could help Megaman, she came across a quiet table. A table where one of Megaman's greatest foes, and possibly Dr. Wily's greatest creation lay sleeping. And a little idea slowly wormed it's way into her brain.

"Dr. Light…maybe we should get some help."

"You're absolutely right," frowned the doctor, "I'll go call Auto and-"

"No, some _real_ help. Someone with skills right on par with what Megaman has."

Dr. Light slowly realized exactly what his third child was thinking, "If you're thinking about the black clown over there, you have to be kidding."

"I'm serious! Rock needs help and Bass-"

"-would probably make the problem even bigger," finished Light.

"But-"

"NO! Roll, you have no idea how much trouble that robot can cause! It's not just a simple issue of reprogramming him. . He's not like the other robot masters."

"And that's why he'll see that this King guy is as big of threat to Wily as he is to us!"

"Roll," sighed the doctor, "You're too nice for your own good. Bass will _never_ change. And no, Roll, that wasn't ironic forshadowing."

"Fine..."

Dr. Light got up and turned away, hauilng himself up the stairs, "Roll, I'm taking Rush and going to Auto's to see if he can help, don't leave the Lab, all right?"

"Yeah…"

Turning back to the monitor where Rock was getting the cheese stuffing knocked out of him by a Godzilla reject, she listened to the slamming of the front door, followed by the sound of the old truck firing up. It seemed like only yesterday she and her brother's had taken the same vehicle to the Robot Museum. Wait…it was yesterday.

To her credit, Roll managed to keep looking at the Bass-shaped lump lying on the table for five whole minutes. But eventually, the magical thing known as 'rationalization' won out and more determined than ever she strode across the room to where Bass was sleeping like a baby. Pounding a few keys on the console, the all-too familiar digital voice announced that she had the correct code and that 'subject 004' was now being activated…

The figure stirred, mouth opening in a ferocious yawn that gave Roll a good look at Bass' fangs, a pair of canines that could easily sink into her synthetic skin and drain her fluids (not the most comforting thought in the world). Stretching like a cat, the monster let out a rumbling noise that reminded the paralyzed Roll more of a lion than anything. It was then, that Bass in all his demonic glory twisted lithe as an elf-

-right onto his side where he curled into a ball and went right on snoring.

Exasperated, Roll shook his shoulder, hissing at him to wake up, but all her efforts got her was a muttered 'five more minutes, Wily, then I'll go out and terrorize the populance…'

Roll came to a conclusion then-she was going to have to resort to desperate measures…

"Now where'd I put that foghorn…"

***

Another fanged creature sniffed at the bushes along side a lonely, but the scent was gone. Treble's simple mind came to the conclusion that his master's captors had teleported away. There was no way the robotic wolf would be able to track him now…

Sitting back on his haunches, he did the only thing he could-howl.

The sound echoed around the forest, wafting on the breeze on it's mission to penetrate every corner, finally drifting through the reinforced walls of LightTech industries.

***

Roll shivered at the sound. The haunting howl of a wolf…not what she needed to hear right now.

The noise affected more than just her. For behind DNR 002 the robot known as Bass finally opened one blood red eye-

"Treble?"

Roll whirled around.

Bass had awoken.


End file.
